


Hungover and I'm Broke

by cashewdani



Category: Greek
Genre: Alcohol, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-22
Updated: 2010-09-22
Packaged: 2018-01-15 02:16:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1287472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cashewdani/pseuds/cashewdani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Mmmhmmm,” she murmurs around the rim of the glass, and he’s telling her he’ll get her another, and asking again, “You’re sure you’re not sad, Ashleigh?” and yes, he has tragically ridiculous hair and possibly the brain of a St. Bernard, but he’s not the worst person. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hungover and I'm Broke

Ashleigh has been babbling to Casey’s voicemail for at least six minutes at this point, things like _texting 911 could mean I’m dying_ , and _I don’t get why we even had to come to this stupid party because we were supposed to watch_ Laguana Beach _tonight_ , but she doesn't get a response. 

Seriously, since her and Cappie had sex with each other for the first time, you’d think they were writing a lab on it they’re experimenting so much.

Ashleigh thinks she’s starting to sober up. The back of her neck feels hot and her hair’s damp, and she wants another beer or to go home, and neither’s an option. And somewhere her complaining about how she doesn’t understand how it’s apparently so difficult to buy more than one sleeve of cups for a party turned into her saying, “Case, I’m pretty sure Travis thinks I’m an idiot,” because that’s at least the way his voice sounded when she was complaining about how hard her statistics class was this semester and how she was going to maybe drop it.

She can feel the tears in her eyes, and this is why they weren’t going to go out, because it’s one thing to be losing your shit in your pajamas while MTV is on in the background and you’re eating a brownie sundae. It’s a totally different story when you’re at the KT house alone and breaking down to someone’s answering machine.

“Call me,” Ashleigh finishes, even though that’s kind of a given.

“You okay?” a voice seems to boom from behind her, and it makes her jump just a little.

“Beaver, you scared the crap out of me!” Ashleigh shrieks a little too loud, her hands clenched, and she’s so angry and down and blah. Today is the stupidest day.

“Sorry.” He holds out the mug she’s pretty sure they were using as a wash cup earlier in the night to her, but she doesn’t even care, she’s drinking it regardless. “Are you okay though? Other than scared?”

He’s doing that thing where he scrunches his face up, like this is some complex thing he’s really got to focus in on. It’s weirdly not the most tragic of looks? Maybe she is in fact a moron. “Thanks, yeah, I’m fine, don’t worry about it.” She takes a gulp of his beer, and it’s warm, but not filled with hair like she was expecting.

“Casey’s with Cappie?” He asks, and she doesn’t know why it’s like he can’t put together a proper sentence of more than a few words and can only quiz her.

“Mmmhmmm,” she murmurs around the rim of the glass, and he’s telling her he’ll get her another, and asking again, “You’re sure you’re not sad, Ashleigh?” and yes, he has tragically ridiculous hair and possibly the brain of a St. Bernard, but he’s not the worst person.

"You're really nice, Beaver. Do you know that?" she tells him, and she has no idea why.

"My mom says it's important to be a gentleman."

Ashleigh nods and then kisses him. 

Apparently what she was feeling wasn’t sobering up.

His mouth tastes like the beer they just shared. It’s nicer than she would have expected.

\---

"You can't tell anyone this happened," Ashleigh says, while trying to find where her other striped knee high made it to. Ugh, she loves this pair of socks, they better not be separated for life.

"Tell them what happened?"

Ashleigh almost legitimately smiles, even without her sock's mate, before she realizes he's not being suave. It's possible he has no idea what she's even doing here. “Awesome, that’s just...really great.”

This is why you stop drinking when they run out of cups. It is not an opportunity to just share one with Beaver that has been God knows where. It is a sign to go on home and call it a night with your dignity and common sense tagging along as your two closest BFFs.

"What are you looking for?" He glances at the clock on his nightstand. "Why are we even awake?"

"Don't worry about it, Beav. I’ve got to go." The sock is just going to have to be another sacrifice to bad decision making. 

“Ashleigh, we good?”

“Yeah, we’re fantastic,” she says, already mostly gone, using the back door like Casey’s told her is the only way to escape without getting your Polaroid taken, which would actually be terrible for more than just how her eye makeup must look at this moment.

\---

It's Thursday, and Ashleigh's almost completely forgotten about whatever the hell that was with Beaver the other night. She's only not totally over it because they don't sell any lilac stripes at American Apparel anymore. She’s checked. And while she’s desperate to replace them, you can’t eBay socks, that’s just disgusting.

She’s been trying to throw herself into studying stat, because she’s not going to drop this class, she’s going to ace it, or at least not fail it, and Travis sent her some websites that are supposedly good for practice tests. 

She’s taking one when Casey comes in the room and throws a balled up mass of purple and black right on her keyboard. “Beaver asked me to give that back to you,” 

Ashleigh just stares at the crumpled sock, her poor lost, lonely sock that’s seen who even knows what kind of horrors. God, what is she going to say, but Casey keeps talking. “He said you let him wear it as a scarf the other night?”

“He said that?” is what comes out of her mouth but her head is only screaming, “WHAT?!” and “Shit.”

“Yeah, I don’t know, he couldn’t explain why he even needed a scarf in the first place, but whatever, that’s Beaver. He just told me to make sure you got it because he wouldn’t want you to be looking around for it.”

Ashleigh’s still trying to process all of this, for real, her brain actually feels like it’s broken. 

“I’m sorry about the other night again, Ash. I should have been there, and then you were in bed the next afternoon when I got back, and I know you’ve talked to Travis and that everything’s good, but I’m sorry you had to play dress up with Beaver instead of having the epic girl talk that situation required.”

Putting the sock in her hamper and not meeting Casey’s eyeline, she says, “It’s okay, I mean, he’s actually kind of cool.”

“Beaver?”

“Look, don’t give me the crazy eyes, he’s just...not so bad.”

“If you say so,” Casey says, grabbing her towel, and saying she’s going for a shower.

Ashleigh sits back down at her desk, but can’t even finish the test.


End file.
